


solace, in three parts

by ellida



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce, PIERCE Tamora - Works
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Missing Scenes, emphasis on the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellida/pseuds/ellida
Summary: Helping in the infirmary isn’t quite enough to keep Tris’s ghosts at bay after fighting off the pirate attack. That’s where her foster siblings come in.Or: Three missing scenes from Chapter 13 ofTris’s Book.
Relationships: Trisana Chandler & Daja Kisubo & Briar Moss & Sandrilene fa Toren
Comments: 18
Kudos: 25
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	solace, in three parts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsanizzyb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsanizzyb/gifts).



> Happy Chocolate Box, @itsanizzyb! I loved your missing scenes prompt and couldn't resist setting these just before the gap between books. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> And thank you, @GaleWrites, for beta reading and helping make this story stronger!

_i. sleep_

__Tris was exhausted. For all that Daja kept shaking her awake in the baths, every time Tris got into bed, sleep remained elusive.

Tonight was no different. Tris huddled in the darkness, remembering the stench of charred flesh.

A light bobbed in the hall, and Sandry appeared in the doorway, clutching her glowing crystal.

“I can’t sleep,” she confided. “My room downstairs feels as close as the cellar. Could I sleep in here with you?”

“There isn’t room!” Tris protested, gesturing at her narrow bed and tangled blankets.

“Sure there is,” the noble insisted, setting the crystal on Tris’s nightstand and clambering right in. “See? I don’t take up much space, and I promise I won’t snore.”

While Tris sputtered for a response, Sandry snuggled down under the blankets. Wasn’t that just like a noble, barging right in as if she were more important than anyone else! Tris began to object, only to remember how horror-stricken Sandry’s face had been as they watched the pirate ships sink. 

_Be nice_ , Tris scolded herself. _It’s the least you can do._

At least Sandry didn’t seem inclined to chatter. She dropped off to sleep almost immediately, her heavy, raspy breaths belying her promise.

To Tris’s surprise, she found that she didn’t mind. Sandry’s weight against her shoulder was warm and comforting, the crystal’s glow was friendly, and the solid rhythm of Sandry’s snores was contagious.

In fact, as she sank into sleep, Tris wondered if maybe this had been Sandry’s plan all along.

_ii. story_

__Dismissed early from the infirmary, Tris huddled miserably against the chimney. No matter how much time she spent helping, it never felt like enough.

“Hey, Coppercurls.” Briar hoisted himself onto the roof beside Tris, lugging a heavy leather-bound book.

“Leave me alone,” Tris snapped. 

“Nah,” the boy said easily. “Can’t. Niko gave me this book of tales from Hajra, and he’s bound to ask me about it when he gets back.”

“So?” Tris glared at him.

“So, there are too many big words. I thought you could help me with it.” 

Tris heaved a sigh but flipped to the first tale, only to discover that it was about a mercenary. Mercenaries were practically pirates!

“I'm not reading this,” she ground out. “I'm just not.”

“It’s not what you think, I swear,” Briar replied softly. “I remember these stories from when I was little. Just give them a try?”

Reluctantly, Tris turned back to the book. The stories told of an ex-mercenary named Blaze who had sworn herself to protecting the helpless after discovering that a raid she’d led had killed her little sister. Haunted and guilt-ridden, Blaze courageously fought slavers and bandits and warlords to protect those as innocent as her sister had been. Despite—or perhaps because of—the blood on her hands, Blaze became a true hero.

After the third tale, Briar yawned and stretched. “That’s prob’ly enough to satisfy Niko. Want to keep the book for a bit?”

Around a sudden lump in her throat, Tris nodded.

_iii._ _soul_

__“Come to my room during rest period,” Daja had said. Tris wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t charcoal sticks, paper, and lit candles on the altar to the Trader gods.

“My people have a ritual _,_ ” Daja explained. “We write down our ill deeds and send them to Bookkeeper Oti through the flame so she can add the debt to her account book.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Tris asked, puzzled. Daja didn’t often talk about Trader rituals.

Daja’s gaze was steady. “Because of the _jishen_.”

Tris felt her face flush hot with shame and was horrified to feel tears pricking at her eyes, but she forced herself to return Daja’s look. “I know what I did was awful, and nothing can ever fix it, but I’m trying! I’m helping in the infirmary. It isn’t enough, I know it isn’t, but it’s _something_. Right?” 

Daja shook her head. “That’s _paying_ your debt. But my grandmother always said that’s only part of it. You have to count up the debt before it can really be settled. Besides, if Bookkeeper Oti knows you mean to pay it off, she’ll hold the weight of it while you do.”

That did sound nice. “But I’m not a Trader,” Tris said, a little sharply.

Daja snorted. “Of course not, merchant girl. But she’s going to read mine anyway. It’s not like it’s out of her way.” She picked up a charcoal stick and began to write.

After a moment, Tris did the same.


End file.
